


Fifty-Fifty

by elrojocapucha



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Overwatch - Freeform, Rivals, Snipers, Target Practice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 20:51:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16502504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrojocapucha/pseuds/elrojocapucha
Summary: A battle of wits, a duel between a Markswoman and an Assassin, and the signs of a mutual rivalry that could blossom into something more.





	Fifty-Fifty

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by artist's Radsity's tumblr tag of ViperKiss, I wanted to crawl out of my hole and try my hand at making overwatch content. I'm not sure how proficient I am at making shipping content. I haven't done this in a while, and I clearly need practice, but those gears started to turn when I saw the tag and went over the scenarios in my head, and I absolutely wanted to take a shot at helping lay the foundations for what others could make regarding this new ship. I hope you enjoy it should you find this!
> 
> Again, special thanks to Radisty for coining (as far as I know) the shipping term ViperKiss!

_“Boss? BOSS!?!?”_

9:00A.M...why did it always have to be at nine o’clock in the morning?

Ever since Jessie decided to strap her to an empty hovercraft with absolutely **no loot** , Ashe was more irritable than usual. So around the time she miraculously managed to get her crew back together, she was, understandably, furious, fed up with her crews shit, and wanted nothing more to recuperate, plan, and **sleep**.

She ended up resting from seven in the evening all the way to ten in the morning the next day...so every time-

_“BOSS IT’S GETTING WORSE!!!”_

-one of the triplets-

_“WE’RE LOSING NUMBERS-”_

Just **had to scream**.

The usual routine proceeded. First, she’d get up-

“So help me god Denis…”

-then she’d practically break the alarm, contacting whichever brother screwed up this time-

“If you’re having such a massive problem-”

-and crescendoing into-

“-THEN GO FIND B.O.B. AND DEAL WITH IT!!!”

But this morning?

_“BOSS YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND-”_

Before he could finish there was a thundering CRACK that rang throughout the air, all the way to Ashe’s private quarters. Followed by the sounds of flying sparks and something resembling someone gurgling blood through a radio on a cheap microphone from decades back.

“Denis? Denis?!?..”.

...that wasn’t Denis...she didn’t really keep track of subordinates that kept screwing up, or of fresh recruits that had ambitions beyond the family. This was someone of the latter description. An omnic, probably recruited a few days earlier. Seemed like an okay person but, just a little too green and a little too greedy.

At first, she thought it was Jessie again. But a frontal assault, out of nowhere without any bravado? It wasn’t like him...which made things interesting.

Without any sign of hesitation or remorse, she donned her gear, loaded her weapons and moved out towards the front of her headquarters, to find B.O.B., trying his best to hide behind a substantial amount of rubble outside. Followed again by another new grunt rushing up behind her.

“Boss you need to get back right no-”

Ashe was genuinely confused...right before she felt something just barely whiz right past her face, never once grazing a single hair on her body or fabric of her clothing, making contact with her informers head, rendering them silent, their final sound the thud their body made as they were knocked to the floor.

There was someone or something picking off her crew... **Her**... **Crew**.

Without any hesitation she pulled out The Viper, pinpointed the exact location from which the bullet was fired, as if she could still see the trail of trajectory it made as it was shot, her body tensed in milliseconds, the world around her faded in sound and feeling as her irises focused on the point and made her shot, the dust around the bullet dispersing and eventually making its way to the target barely grazing its shoulder…

What her eye saw wasn’t entirely uncommon, but something still felt off. It was a figure, cloaked, not even camouflaged, just a dark grey and tattered cloth haphazardly thrown over. She didn’t make out much of the figure but...something was off. About them. They didn’t look all that human. Not an omnic, but still...something was just, wrong.

Adrenaline in no short supply, “NOW YOU LISTEN HERE!”, she directly addressed her uninvited guest with a voice that could have shattered the canyons themselves.

“You got some nerve coming into my territory, killing my employees, AND THINKING YOU CAN KNOCK ME DOWN A PEG!!!...So what you’re gonna do RIGHT NOW, is come on over, lay down your arms, and tell me just what you hope to accomplish with barely anything but your rifle on you!”

...a few moments passed.

Suddenly a zipping sound could’ve been heard, wiring, braided, followed by the clanging of metal around the remnants of an abandoned rail track close to the headquarters followed by the wind morphing around an object. The cloaked figure was swinging towards the base, towards her.

As if her body moved on her own she pulled out her coach gun as the figure landed in front of her, tumbling to break their fall, pulling it right up to the intruders torso, of which they had also pulled their rifle out, it’s barrel somehow extending in a series of clicks and propulsions unlike a machine, with its cold tips almost protruding through her vest and pressed against her heart.

Her vision was unwavering, but what she saw would have shaken the heart of any lowly bandit. Bright, lifeless, piercing yellow eyes directed their gaze to her own of crimson. An aura and wind of cold, and chill, almost emanated towards her. An expression of frustration, perhaps mixed with disappointment, etched upon their face. _Her_. Face. 

Ashe couldn’t help but smirk, “Well I’ll be goddamned, I didn’t think I’d get the chance to go toe to toe with the infamous Spider of Kings Row.”

“Please”, a disgruntled groan came from The Widowmaker of practical legend, “We can exchange needless pleasantries later, right now I need to-” before she could finish her own sentence, she stopped, groaning once more. She honestly couldn’t believe she was even there.

Ashe took a moment, viewing the obvious distaste on The Widowmaker’s face, and then it hit here, “Oh my lord, you need to make a deal?”

“Do not make this more difficult this needs to be.”

But Ashe was going to milk this for as long as she could, “Oh no no noooo darlin’”, she retracted her weaponry slowly, motioning to B.O.B. to head back inside, as she wouldn’t be long, “For being present in such exalted company, and with such a fine assassin as yourself? I’m going to take my sweet time with this~.”

She then turned away, walking right into her own home, the bodies having been removed and disposed of by B.O.B. As The Widowmaker walked in behind her, she sat at one of the few remaining tables left that the body hadn’t knocked over, waiting for her to finally have her own seat, and so it was that the encounter truly began.

“So, tell me, what’s someone as renowned as you doing in these parts? Couldn’t just be for leisure hun’.”

“I don’t...feel, I wouldn’t need time for leisure.”

Ashe, saw differently. Having removed her cloak, The Widowmaker looked like she had seen better days. Her hair was dry, protruding, cut in some areas. The damage had been sustained throughout her body, haphazard stitches on her clavicle, bandages on her chest and cheeks, leggings were torn to reveal slashed calves and thighs, not to mention the various sealed bullet holes. She was alive and kicking, and the beating she took was overtime, not at once. But she still looked worse for ware. 

“Mmm...I dunno darlin’, something tells me you need to take some kind of load off, y’know?”

With a clenching fist, “Do. Not. Push. Me.”, each word growing more toxic as she spoke them.

But Ashe wasn’t phased, if anything she couldn’t contain a growing grin any longer, “No listen here Spider, or Widowmaker, there anything you wanna be called?”

“I said-”

“Spidey?”

“Do Not-”

“Nah that seems a bit too long, how about Widey? Wid? Or maybe-”

Without a second thought, Ashe found herself pinned against the nearest wall, her wrists seized by The Widowmakers hands, legs locked in place by her knees and feet. 

B.O.B. was about to intervene and remove her off of Ashe, but she motioned him to stop. Her grin grew wider as she looked upon The Widowmaker’s face. 

**Anger**. Pure, unadulterated and seething rage nearly bled through The Widowmakers teeth. Something reports had failed to mention, something the tales decided to leave out. The said she could never feel, but this? This was something special.

“Listen to me, and listen, closely.”, The Widowmakers breath was vile, and yet it felt just as cold as her demeanor, “I don’t enjoy, any of this. I don’t enjoy having failed, I don’t enjoy being sent out for field testing, I Don’t, like wasting my time on second-rate robbers and scoundrels, and I DO NOT APPRECIATE, WASTING TIME, WITH A SECOND RATE MARKSMAN-”

At this point, she could hear something shift, click, and load behind her. B.O.B. had moved on his own, his arm cannons aimed right at The Widowmakers head in retaliation to the supposed insult of his lifelong compatriot. But Ashe remained unphased, her expression was of enjoyment, but it was also painted with a sense of understanding as she motioned B.O.B. to retract his weapons, “Now now B.O.B.”

Never once did she remove her gaze from the assassin, “As much as I find offense with being called Second Rate, I find it more offensive having my skills be compared to a mans….but please, do finish darlin’.”

The Widowmaker breathed abnormally slowly, with a small smirk of her own forming for but a moment, “...with a Second Rate Markswoman...when I’d rather cut to the chase and finish my job.”

“Ooooh~”, Ashe cooed, raising a brow in a condescending yet still interested expression, “and what kind of problem might your handlers need to take care of to send their prized pet all the way out here for?”

The Widowmaker snarled, “A lowly heist group managed to raid a Talon supply caravan fifty miles from here, It was carrying weapons, explosives, anything you’d need to-”

“Rob A Bank. It’s like you forgot who you’ve got pinned here hun’.”

The Widowmaker paused, then sighed, then slowly let go of Ashe, “Look...among those supplies was a drive of schematics for an upcoming project.”

“Something lil’ ol degenerative folks like me can’t see?”

“That’s not!... Fine, sure, you can’t see it, neither can I, but I need it all the same, and I need to get it back fast.”

“And you’re here becauuuuse?”

Ashe couldn’t have seen a more dead look, “I...I need-”, followed by a scrunched face, disgusted.

To which Ashe was absolutely delighted with, “C’mon, you can do it, I know you can-”

“HELP, I Need Your Help!!! An abhorrent and annoying associate of mine said your skills were capable of assisting me in my mission so I need your help! ”, there was that anger, springing back to whatever semblance of life the cold assassin could muster once more, but it was just soaking with this, disbelief, this distinct lack of comfort with the notion that she of all people had to find assistance.

“There, see? That wasn’t so hard now was it?”, Ashe’s smile couldn’t have lit the room better than the setting sun, “Listen, around fifty miles from here there just so happens to be a bank, and as it stands I was planning’ on robbin’ it anyways, gotta fund this operation somehow after it was brought to the drowning. So I’ll go ahead and cut you that deal-” she leaned in close to The Widowmakers face.

“You can walk out with your drive...but I, get the profits. We have a deal?”

The assassin scoffed, “That hardly sounds fair.”

Now it was Ashe’s turn to groan, “Look sugar, what’s your name?”

“...Amelie.”

“Half a name is no name to me.”, Ashe was now showing signs of fury herself, “Now, I will ask you, again. What. Is. Your. Name?”

“....Amelie Guillard.”

“Nooo shit? Guillard? Ol’ Hunting Family sitting in France shooting geese and ez-car-goh?”

Amelie did her best not to kill Ashe at that moment, and yet, “....This is coming from Ashe? Or should I say Elizabeth, of the Caledonia’s? Do tell me why it is you threw away your livelihood and the family business in place for this luxurious life you’ve found.”

Ashe. Didn’t Flinch. Once.

"Well?"

To which Amelie sighed, “...yes, in-spite of your inaccurate insults, yes, that Guillard.”

To which Ashe responded, “Okay Amelie, ol’ Ame, let’s get one thing clear”, she moved uncomfortably close to Amelie’s space, “In these parts, there’s no other way to go...but **my** , way. So either you’re fine with just taking your hard drive. Or you can go ahead and find ‘em and kill ‘em yourself.”

“....fifty-fifty.”

Silence took the room. The wind blew across the now approaching night sky, and dust was dancing freely in the company of now mute murderers and devils in their own respective rights.

“....seventy-thirty, Lady that gets more kills takes the larger pot”, Ashe extended her hand, “Might as well have a little fun seeing who’s the better shot, no?”

Amelie took a moment to consider, “...I haven’t completely lost my pride,” she took Ashe’s hand, “deal.”

\-----Hours Passed-----

In time the competitors made it to their marks, their targets already inside of the bank, swarming in numbers, armed to the teeth in stolen armaments. But it wouldn’t matter for them, for they were not prepared.

Each huntress made their entrance in silence, having readied their weapons and repaired their wounds both physically and spiritually. 

B.O.B. was to be the sound off, the minute he leaped his way through the windows above the already blown apart door, the second the sound of shattering glass would fill the air, the players would take to their stage.

For tonight wasn’t about their enemies, their issues, their failures? They almost couldn’t be bothered to remember.

Tonight each had a goal, one perhaps more so important than the other, but regardless?

With the sound of B.O.B. smashing through, followed by the voices of would be legends-

Tonight, was a night for fun.

Ashe and Amelie sprung from opposite sides of the building, each taking their shots as the robbers fell down in rapid succession.

Ashe managed the first strikes, “Two.”

Amelie followed with more, “Five.”

Soon they began to clear the first floor.

“Twelve!”

“Thirteen.”

Then the second.

“Twenty-Six!”

“Thirty!”

Then the lower levels.

“Forty-Seven!”

“Forty-Eight”

As each then rushed towards the back exits where the last four remaining thieves stood, Ashe managed to sling her coach gun out in time to manage two more kills, “Forty-Nine!”

Amelie not far behind shooting one about to reach for a truck to escape, “Forty-Nine.”

All that was left was one. One lone squealing, leaking, and trembling thief.

It was almost impressive the sheer number these idiots had mustered. Their trucks lined for miles, about as far as their confidence could take them.

“Shame”, Ashe couldn’t help but chuckle, “All this effort and they end up pissin’ themselves.” 

Amelie smirked, unbeknownst to Ashe, up until she heard, “I don’t think it’d be fair of me to take the lead here, after you.”

To which Amelie replied, “No, please, they’re yours. You’ve proven yourself more than capable this evening Cherie.”

“Ooohohoooo, suddenly I’m not the only one slinging names? Come on now, have at it-”

“I insist, Ashe, have the last piece.”

“No, really I’d feel ashamed if you didn’t leave with a good record.”

“Aww, but what about your reputation in this province?”

Before the ping pong match could proceed any further, B.O.B. flew down from above like a majestic metal pigeon and crunched the unfortunate then survivor under his feet.

Ashe. Was. Livid., “B.O.B.!!! WHAT WAS THAT FOR, WE WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF SEEING WHO’D WIN THE SCORE AND YOU JUST HAD TO RUIN THE MOMENT!!!”

As Ashe continued to berate B.O.B., Amelie went off, to arrive later to come back with the hard-drive. 

“I believe, this is where we part ways?”

Ashe snapped out of her haze abnormally fast, “What? You’re leaving already?”

“I’m afraid so, Cherie”, she walked up to Ashe, “perhaps we might enjoy each other's company some other time.”

“Heh...I’ll take you up on that offer darlin’. But you’d better write.”

Amelie scoffed, “please”, as she walked out into the moonlight, grappling hook prepared to fire, “do I look like a dead-beat cowboy to you?”, and without another word, her form zipped off into the night sky, unable to be seen within a matter of moments.

Ashe went back to her abode feeling...empty handed somehow. Sure she had made the score, regained the wealth needed to get the Deadlock Gang back on its feet and then some, but she felt like she lost out somehow.

The week after she heard a small bump on her window, at ten in the morning.

As she rose she found a roll of paper, with a wax seal encasing its contents.

An actual letter, an invitation to ‘hunt’, as it were. An underground criminal organization had plans on seizing Talon’s assets within the financial institutions of France, the loser would have to pick up the bill for dinner afterward.

Ashe laughed softly, ”Well I’ll be…”, followed by shouting from the room for everyone to hear, “B.O.B., PACK OUR THINGS, we’re swinging over to the Guillard Estate!"


End file.
